


Hell Never Looked So Good

by emmawicked



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Asshole Dean, Demon Dean, Demon Dean Winchester, F/M, Fluff, SO MUCH SARCASM, Sarcasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 05:37:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5993506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmawicked/pseuds/emmawicked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean comes back from the dead, he's not exactly the way you remember him...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hell Never Looked So Good

“Sam!” You called, a huge smile growing on your face, “You’re back!” He had just gone to follow a lead on Dean. It had been six months and nothing. No text, phone call, nothing- hell, not even a friggin postcard to say, ‘Hey, sorry for leaving after you all thought I was dead, Florida is so nice this time of year!’. 

Sam had been gone six days this time, which was a lot longer that he usually left for on a normal hunting gig. You took a sip out of your glass as you stood up to greet him. As he shuffled in the door, he had a strange look on his face.  

“Uh… y/n,” he started, his eyes gazing into your own, “I have something to show you, please promise not to freak out.” Your forehead creased as you wondered what the hell he was talking about. Did he bring someone home again? Last time he had been so drunk he thought his shoe was a sandwich, so he really had no excuse this time. Did he kill someone important again?

“I promise,” you reassured him, “What’s wrong?” With a hesitant look, Sam moved out of the doorway to reveal Dean, his brother, standing there and looking completely normal and healthy for someone who was supposed to be dead. And human.

“Heya, y/n,” Dean said with a jaunty smile, “Nice to see you again.” His eyes flashed black and your glass shattered on the floor. 

***

Suffice to say, you didn’t handle Dean’s demonic return very well. 

“Sam!” You hissed at the man who was at least eight inches taller than you and was cowering away from you like you were going to explode, “What the hell were you thinking? Oh, that’s right- you weren’t!” You let out a bitter laugh that verged on hysterical, your voice going up two octaves until it reached a pitch only bats could hear. Sam made a move like he was going to interrupt you and you shushed him. “Oh, no- don’t you dare interrupt me right now. You just brought a demon home- to the bunker! Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?” You demanded, poking his chest with each sentence to emphasis your point.

“He’s my brother, y/n,” Sam retorted fiercely, making the first defense of himself since you started shouting at him in a broom closet, “We both knew this was a possibility, even before he… he…”

“Died,” you said coldly. Sam shifted uncomfortably, looking exceedingly fragile and small for a 6’ 4”, 200 pound man. 

“Yeah…” He was quiet for a moment and you stood in righteous silence, “Come on, y/n, just give him a chance- we don’t even know if he’s any different than from before!” 

“Different?” You questioned with a voice that was at least an octave above your normal one, “Sam, he’s a friggin demon!” Sam just looked at you with his sad, brown eyes and you could feel yourself start to waver. 

“Please.” Ugh. You caved. Damn him and his soulful brown eyes that made him look like a kicked puppy.

“Fine,” you sighed, your shoulders sinking down, “But don’t expect me to be nice to him,” you warned. A half-smile crossed Sam’s face. 

“I don’t,” he reassured. 

“Good.” …This is going to go horribly. Giving Sam one last look, you opened the door to the broom closet that you had yanked him into to yell at him. Dean was standing outside with a shit-eating grin. 

“Hey, y/n,” he said, his eyes flashing to black, “What were you guys doing in there?” His face held a teasing grin and it stayed there even as you glared at him. 

“Go to hell,” you snapped- your insult may have been unoriginal, but it was the first thing that popped into your head. Dean clicked his tongue at you.

“Already did, sweet cheeks. Didn’t care for it that much.” You bit back the retort that was bursting to come out and just brushed past him. Just ignore him… just ignore him…

“No need to be rude, princess. I’m just makin’ conversation!” … This might be harder than I thought. 

***

…You were wrong. It was way worse than you thought. Demon Dean (or Deanmon as you brilliantly dubbed him when you were really bored one evening) was an asshole. Dean was an asshole when he was human, but deanmon was like a seven layer asshole-cake, covered in asshole-icing, topped with a bouquet of douchery-flowers. And now Sam was leaving for a hunt and not taking you with him.

“Sam,” you hissed, “You cannot leave me here with that thing!” Sam sighed and looked at you as you repeated your argument for the tenth time. 

“Y/n,” he said, taking you by the shoulder, “That thing is my brother, and you promised me- remember?” You deflated, thinking of the truth in his statement. 

“I gave him a chance, and he was a douche about it!” You protested. Sam pinched the bridge of his nose and you were struck by how much he looked like an overworked parent who just found out that their kid had detention that day.

“Y/n, please,” he begged, “I’ll be gone for a day at most and you can avoid him if you want- you don’t even have to see each other if you don’t want to. Just please try. For me?” He pulled out the puppy dog eyes again and you folded like a crappy lawn chair in the summer. 

“Fine,” you huffed. You glowered the entire time Sam was packing and it didn’t help that Dean was in the room making snarky comments. Sam left after half an hour, leaving the bunker completely silent. Well, not as silent as you would've liked.

“Sweetheart, you can’t just keep ignoring me, you know,” Deanmon said with a wicked grin. 

“Watch me,” you snapped, stalking off to hole up in your room. He didn’t follow you, which relieved and surprised you- usually he was much more persistent. 

You hid in your room in boredom, trying to pass the time by reading and listening to music. By six, you could feel a gnawing hunger in your stomach but you ignored it- you’ve been starving before, you could handle going without dinner for one night. Then the scent of grilled burgers wafted into your room. 

“Dammit,” you swore under your breath. Your eyes drifted towards the door before you resolutely wrapped your arms around your knees and resolved not to leave the room. Dean was trying to lure you out and he was not going to succeed if you had anything to say about it. 

But…. Dean was a really good cook and you were hungry. You had eaten your last granola bar hours ago and the only other edible thing you had in your room was a package of stale gummy worms that expired eight months ago and were collecting dust. Growling, you stood up and left for the kitchen. 

Just as you expected, Dean was cooking and whistling a jaunty tune as you walked in. Turning his head slightly, he had the audacity to look surprised as you walked in. 

“Y/n!” He exclaimed, “How nice to see you.” He was wearing a ‘kiss the cook’ apron and you had no idea where he could’ve gotten it- but it wouldn’t surprise you if he bought it just for this occasion.

“Wish I could say the same,” you grumbled. You felt kinda of betrayed because he found out about your weakness for food- damn him and his cooking skills. Dean clucked his tongue and gestured at you with a spatula.

“Don’t insult the cook,” he said sternly, “They’ll spit in your food.” You rolled your eyes as you drifted deeper into the kitchen.

“I doubt that’s my biggest worry with you cooking,” you said dryly, causing Dean to crack a smile, “Is there anything you need me to do?” He looked surprised by your offer, but he hid it under another wicked grin. 

“You can set the table.” You obeyed and started to set the table with silverware. Eating with non-plastic utensils still felt decadent even though you and the boys had been living in the bunker for over a year. “Love the outfit, by the way,” Dean said with a smirk, his eyes trailing up and down your body with an appreciative gaze. You flushed hotly and muttered something about ‘some day I’ll kill you’ and ‘they’ll never find your body’. Turning around stiffly, you tried to hide yourself from his gaze as you set the table. Since your original plans had been hole up in your room all evening and hide from Dean, you had changed into pajama shorts that barely touched mid-thigh and a thin tank top with lace. 

“Burgers are done!” Dean called and you had to hide your eagerness as you grabbed a plate off the shelf and went to get your food. You bit into it as soon as you sat down and let out a strangled moan at how good it was- Dean may have become more of an asshole as a demon, but you could swear that his cooking skills improved. Dean chuckled at you as he sat down across the table from you. 

“Do you even need to eat?” You questioned in-between bites. 

“Technically? No, but why would I stop eating good food just because I don’t need it?” 

“Good point,” you said with a shrug. 

After dinner, you started washing up and cleaning the dishes in the sink. The dishwasher had broken a few days ago and no one had thought to fix it yet. I should probably do that, you thought idly. 

“Need any help with that?” Dean’s voice questioned from behind you. You turned slightly and offered him a hesitant smile.

“Sure, you can dry.” You tossed him a rag and he caught it with one hand. Show off. Turning back around, you hummed as you cleaned the dirty dishes that had accumulated over the day. Suddenly you were struck by the domesticity of the moment- with Dean gone with an uncertain fate, you and Sam had precious few normal, stress-free moments over the past six months. 

“Y/n?” Dean questioned when didn’t hand him the next dish, startling you out of your reverie. 

“Yeah?” You questioned. Dean stared at you with a calculating look in his eye and reached pass you to turn off the water.

“What’s wrong?” You shrank back slightly, gripping the edge of the counter so hard your knuckles turned white. He caged you against the counter with his arms, leaving you with no escape. 

“Nothing!” You protested, “What do you mean?” Dean rolled his eyes and flicked them to black for no reason other than to be dramatic. 

“I know when you’re lying to me, y/n,” he said dryly. You avoided his gaze and suddenly found that the wall behind him was extremely interesting. 

“I’m not l…” The look in his eye made you to not want to finish your sentence. You sighed before changing your response. “Sam and I…” You trailed off momentarily and you didn’t notice how Dean’s expression darkened at your words, “We really missed you, Dean.” Those obviously weren’t the words he was expecting to hear because he backed away in surprise. 

“Really?” You scoffed at his reply. 

“Of course we did Dean,” you snapped, “What did you think was going to happen when you just abandoned us like that? We didn’t know if you were alive or dead until Crowley let something slip! We had to find out from the fucking king of hell, Dean!” You let out all your pent up frustration and anger and feelings of abandonment that he’d left behind when he disappeared. 

Your chest was heaving by the time you finished and you expected Dean to yell right back at you. What you did not expect was for him to hug you tightly to his chest and rest his head on top of yours. 

You stiffed instinctively at the action, but he didn’t let go. He just continued to hold you there like a child. 

“I didn’t know,” he murmured against your hair. He didn’t offer an apology, something you were grateful for- any excuse he would say would’ve felt false. 

“At least you’re here now.” You started to relax into the embrace, but Dean let his hands drift down a little too far. 

“Goddammit Dean!” You exclaimed, pushing him away. He laughed at you with a self-satisfied smirk on his face. His eyes flicked to black as he taunted you. 

“What? We both know you want me,” Dean teased, purposefully keeping his eyes black. Your eyebrows shot up at his crass words. 

“I don’t know where you get your delusions.” Dean clucked his tongue at you, and you took a step backwards only to run into the counter as he moved towards you. 

“Oh please, you’ve always wanted me- even when I was that weak human,” Dean snorted. Your eyes got wider and your mouth gaped as you stared at him in disbelief. 

“I have no idea wh-” Dean cut you off by yanking you towards him by your shirt and crashing his mouth on yours. You made a muffled sound of halfhearted protest but Dean was insistent. 

Your protests soon went out the window as he kissed you roughly, taking control of your mouth and you wondered why you were angry at him in the first place, it couldn't have been that important. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist and he lifted you up to sit on the counter. You could feel the heat gathering inside of you, every brush of his fingers on your skin just making you want him more. He wanted you too, you realized with a smirk, and you grinded on him to gain the upper hand Dean let out a growl and held you down on the counter. 

“Y/n,” he warned in a low voice, “Stop or this is going to be over a lot sooner.” You looked up at him innocently. 

“Stop what?” You questioned with a smirk, “This?” You rolled your hips against his and forced Dean to let out a growl. 

“Dammit, y/n.” He snarled at you before kissing you roughly and erasing any ideas of dominance that you had. “You’re mine, and I’m go-” What Dean was planning to do to you was interrupted by Sam’s disgusted exclamation. 

“Seriously guys?” He yelled, shielding his eyes as he turned his back to the kitchen, “I told you two to play nice, not have sex- and I use that counter!” Dean chuckled and you flushed bright red. You tugged on Dean’s shirt to be let down and he obliged, letting you slide off the counter. You coughed awkwardly and refused to make eye contact with Sam even after he turned around. 

“I- I’m just going to go dive off a cliff now,” you managed to stammer. You started to walk away but Dean caught your arm. 

“Better not,” he said with a wink, “I still plan on finishing what we started.” You didn’t know it was possible, but you blushed even redder at his comment. You slapped away his arm and sped out of the room with Dean’s laugh echoing behind you.


End file.
